Chapter Text
BRAN IV
He looked out over the green fields, spotted with a few patches of snow still. Spring was taking hold of the North, right in time for the birth of his child. He had done everything he could to keep himself from forcing his mind into the future, to ensure the safety of Meera and their child. Losing either would be catastrophic, and a fear he could hardly contain.
Each day that passed, the closer she grew to the end, the more the fear gripped him. He could take her to the forest, in front of the heart tree, and do as he had done with Dany and peer into the future. He would do it if she asked. But it felt like a selfish request if he did it to assuage his own mind.
He would be glad when Jon and Daenerys arrived. Something to take his mind off his constant worry. Maester Wolken had assured them both that everything was progressing as it should. One of their Wildling guards had even offered up one of the midwives who looked over their village mothers to have a look. Everyone said that things were fine. Even Meera brushed off his worries, proclaiming she and the baby were fine. Just hungry and tired.
None of it made him feel any better.
Two days until the King and Queen arrived and the Keep was in a tizzy, Meera being one of the worst. She wanted everything to be perfect, despite Bran’s words of comfort that Jon grew up here and had slept in far worse quarters than those the King and Queen would occupy. She’d had more blankets and pillows stacked onto the large bed. A grate to cover the hearth to keep the babies from walking into it. Extra deer and boars to feed both humans and dragons alike.
Podrick was pushing him through the castle as they looked for Meera. He finally stopped a maid whose arms were loaded down with candles. “Have you seen the Lady of the Keep?”
“Yes, Mi’lord. She’s in the King and Queen’s quarters.”
Bran looked back at Pod, who shared a smile with him. That should have been the first place he looked.
They entered the room as a large brown fur was being removed from the bed in lieu of a white one. “What do you think?” she asked the maid beside her.
“They have two babies. You’d think they’d want something that could hide any unsightly stains.”
“Excellent point. Put the brown one back,” she said with a nod and rubbed her hand over her belly. Candles sat on every clear surface and new rugs covered the stone floor. “Is it stuffy in here?” she asked as she lifted her curly black hair from her neck.
“I think it’s all the flames,” he answered and she whirled around to look at him. “Then again, she doesn’t actually feel heat and Jon seems to enjoy the cold compared to the heat of the South.”
“When did you get here?” Meera questioned, even as she smiled at him.
“During the exchange of the brown and white furs,” he teased.
She grew serious. “And do you agree? Brown?”
“I think as long as it’s warm, they won’t care.”
“This is their first visit since I’ve officially been Lady of the Keep, and once I have the baby I will be preoccupied. I want to make sure they have everything they’ll need.”
He took her hand and smiled up at her. “They will. You’ve seen to it. Besides, they’re here as family. Not in an official capacity.”
“I know,” she said as her hand rubbed over her belly, a way she relieved stress now. “But I want them to think I’m a good Lady of Winterfell. I’m no Sansa…”
He cleared his throat. “Everyone leave us,” he ordered and the room cleared out with Podrick closing the door behind him. “Meera, you’re a wonderful wife and Lady of this Keep. All of our people love you. You take care of us all. How could they not see how great you are?”
“Sansa…”
“You and Sansa have very similar qualities. But you are different, for certain. Our people feel a kinship with you, approach you because they feel you appreciate their input and don’t look down on them. You’ve seen the harshness of the world, especially beyond the Wall, and the Free Folk respect that about you. Don’t compare yourself to anyone but your own standard. Promise me.”
She sighed and stepped closer to him, resting her hands on his shoulders. “You do have an ability to calm me that is disarming.”
He smiled. “I like to think it’s because we know one another so well.”
“I suppose that could be it.” She leaned down and kissed his cheek. “Were you looking for me?”
“I was. Lord Hornwood is making a trip here to take a meeting with the King and Queen.”
Lord Hornwood was not letting the issue with the Wildlings go. Despite the fact that there had been no raids or attacks of any kind, he still held prejudice against the Free Folk and did not want them on Northron land.
“Wonderful. He can take it up with them and hear it in Westerosi, Dothraki, and Valyrian that the Free Folk are staying.”
“Yes, I’m uncertain which one will be unhappier with his declarations.”
“Care to place a wager?”
“Oh, you know I love to bet against you. What do you suggest?”
“Which one puts him in his place first? Jon or Daenerys?”
“That is difficult to say. Jon lived with them and has stood up for them in the past and it cost him his life. Daenerys has also taken on the role of protector of unprotected groups.” He waved a hand. “I’ll allow you to choose.”
“I suppose, in that case, I’ll choose our Queen.”
“Then I take my brother, Protector of the Free Folk.”
“Who knelt to the Queen,” she reminded with a smirk.
Bran wrinkled his nose, realizing he might have walked into a trap. “Did you trick me?”
She gasped dramatically. “ Me ? Trick you ?”
He chuckled. “Either way, it should be fun to watch.”
*~*
Two days later, the call sounded around the Keep that the dragons had been spotted on the horizon. Podrick rolled Bran from the study to the yard where he stood in line and was soon joined by his wife. She waddled, in his opinion, but he dared not say that to her as she was stubborn and would attempt to walk differently. The rest of the household stood at attention as a small retinue of his most trusted soldiers went to meet them outside to escort them inside. Drogon, at this point, surely wouldn’t fit.
Soon, Jon, Daenerys, Missandei, and a few Unsullied soldiers joined them inside the gates. From the harnesses strapped to their fronts, peered two toddlers, the little princesses, Rhaella and Lyanna. Everyone, save Bran and Meera, dropped to a knee, but both of them bowed.
“Rise,” Jon ordered. He removed the baby from the harness on his chest and held her high in his arms. “Brother,” he grinned at Bran as he leaned down to embrace him. Dany had hugged Meera who soon had a toddler in her own arms, Lyanna willingly passing to her. “Sister, you look radiant,” Jon said, hugging Meera and placing a kiss upon her cheek.
“Thank you, Your Grace. I feel enormous.”
Dany chuckled and hugged her from the side. “I’d like to tell you it goes away.”
Meera sighed. “I appreciate the attempt to make me feel better. Now, which twin am I holding?”
“This is Lyanna,” Dany answered as she rubbed her little daughter’s back.
Jon bounced Rhaella in his arms. “And this is Rhaella.”
“They’re beautiful, brother,” Bran grinned and held out a finger to the toddler in Jon’s arms. She quickly grabbed it and attempted to bring it into her mouth. Jon’s answering chuckle and pulling the finger away was enough signal to Bran that this was a regular occurrence.
Jon placed Rhaella on Bran’s lap and she stared up at him curiously. After a moment, her brow turned down, her bottom lip poked out, and tears welled in her eyes as she looked back at her father unsure what was happening.
Her father ran a hand over the little hat atop her head. Bran spoke before she could begin crying. “Let’s go inside where it’s warm. Get these little ones some food,” his voice was gentle, as soothing as possible, remembering how everyone spoke to Rickon when he was a baby, soft, almost cooing at him. He hated it at the time, but now, able to witness how it worked, he continued.
“Oh, they’d love that,” Jon replied.
“I had the cook make kidney pies for you, Jon,” Bran bragged.
He smiled. “With the peas and onions? My favorite!”
Meera chimed in then. “We have some pears for the little ones.”
Dany walked beside Meera who held a nearly sleeping Lyanna. “They’ve never had pears. We’ve yet to find a fruit they don’t like. Hopefully, these will be equally as loved.”
Rhaella looked around as Podrick pushed Bran’s chair into the family solar. The large metal grate was placed in front of the hearth so the babies could run around. The carpets all traded out for new, fluffy furs to help with falls.
“How are things in Winterfell? We received a request for a meeting while we’re here with Lord Hornwood. What does he want?” Daenerys asked.
Meera slowly lowered herself into a chair. “He’s a fear mongering idiot.”
Lyanna rested against her shoulder, her eyes drifting closed as she sucked on her thumb. Daenerys sat beside her and leaned back in her chair. “I’m sure you’re correct, but what exactly is his complaint?”
“He doesn’t want the Free Folk within the North.”
Jon rolled his eyes. “He has no say in that.”
“He obviously hasn’t liked our response.”
“Oh? What was it?” Jon questioned as he removed his heavy outer fur and helped Daenerys with her coat. Inside the walls of the Keep, specifically the solar, it was plenty warm.
Bran cleared his throat. “That the Free Folk were given leave to stay south of the Wall by the King and Queen and if he didn’t like it, he was free to have it explained to him by the two of you.”
Daenerys turned to Jon. “Sansax has come with us to be with Lyanna. Perhaps we should introduce Lord Hornwood to only one of the many influential forms of communications we have.”
Jon smirked. “We might not have to demonstrate outside with Drogon.”
“Sansax would probably do the trick,” Bran agreed.
Meera grinned. “Allow me to be present when this meeting happens.”
“Meera doesn’t care for Lord Hornwood,” Bran joked with the others.
“Detest him,” she offered. The expression changed from one of disdain to contentment as her hand rubbed over the back of Lyanna’s head. “However, I think I could get used to this, even though my little one doesn’t seem to care for the weight.”
“Let us switch, Meera,” Bran offered. Jon and Daenerys facilitated the switch and now, a still sleeping Lyanna rested in Bran’s arms as a wide awake Rhaella rubbed over Meera’s belly.
Daenerys leaned forward. “May I?” she asked Meera before touching her belly. She nodded and rubbed the swell. “There’s a baby inside, Rhae.”
“Bay-bee?”
Everyone smiled to hear her little voice. Meera took her hand and placed it over the spot the baby was moving. Rhaella moved her hand quickly then looked back at the spot and finally put her head over the bump for the stretching baby to push off her. Rhaella laughed. “Bay-bee!” She held her arms out. “My hold it.”
Daenerys shook her head. “The baby isn’t here, yet. Soon.”
She put her head back on Meera’s belly and they all watched her squeal in delight as time and time again the baby stretched. Lunch was soon served, Lyanna roused from her nap by her father who helped placate her sour mood with a bit of pear. Bran was amazed to watch Daenerys maneuver, eating her own food and keeping it out of the hands of a reaching Rhaella but to also feed the baby without ever losing place with the conversation. He hoped that he and Meera would adapt to their little one as Jon and Daenerys had to theirs.
A knock sounded at the doors and the person was bid to enter. “Lord Hornwood’s banners on the horizon.”
Bran rolled his eyes, realizing the meeting with the persistent lord would not wait. He looked at his brother and Queen. Neither seemed to react to the news, instead, continuing to feed their children and laugh at their antics. Even Bran could see that while they may be King and Queen, they were parents first, and that filled him with a contentment he didn’t quite understand. He reached for Meera’s hand beneath the table and she squeezed back, her eyes meeting his. He knew that if Jon and Daenerys could be attentive to their family while running a kingdom, so could they.
“We’ve already taken on a nursemaid. We’ve asked that she watch the little ones during our meeting. We thought it would be a good idea to have Missandei present to help show the Lord that Westeros embraces everyone. If that’s alright, Missandei.”
“I would be honored. And please allow me to list all of your titles.”
Daenerys smiled. “All of them. Even a few you can think of during the moment.”
Meera laughed. “He’ll be ready to throw himself from the rampart.”
The nursemaid was summoned and a few moments later, she took the children to the nursery, the rest preparing to greet the disgruntled Lord. Jon left the room with a promise to meet them in the hall before Lord Hornwood arrived.
Soon, Daenerys, Bran, and Meera were seated at the long table, Missandei just in front of it for the initial meeting. Jon soon walked in with Sansax, now the size of Ghost, walking behind him. When Sansax saw Daenerys, she quickly dashed across the room and flew to perch on the table, nearly upending it. Daenerys gave her a few scratches and spoke in Valyrian to her. Sansax turned to lay regally upon the table, her long tail dragging the ground as she swished it over the edge. Jon even gave the dragon a few pets as he took his seat beside his wife.
“How is your Valyrian coming along?” Bran asked.
Daenerys laughed as Jon grumbled. “I can get the words easily enough, and I understand them. It’s the pronunciation that’s a problem. To my wife’s utter amusement.”
“Jon, there’s one thing in this world you don’t do well. I’m content with it being that,” she teased.
Meera took Bran’s hand and placed it over her belly. “Your child is exhausting me.”
He could feel the little one pushing against her belly. He locked eyes with her and frowned. “Apologies, love,” he winced.
With the announcement that Lord Hornwood had arrived, he took a moment to look around the room. Podrick stood to his left behind Meera, two guards at every door, the young dragon laying down, but her head was eyeing the room. Jon and Daenerys sat side by side at the table. It was a united front and Bran could only hope that Lord Hornwood could finally be reasoned with regarding this issue. The Wildlings earned their place in the world with their unfailing loyalty to Jon and Daenerys. If he couldn’t be reasoned with, then the intimidating figure of a dragon resting on the table should be its own warning.
Finally, Lord Hornwood was escorted in, two guards of his own at his sides. They stopped a few feet from the table. “You stand in the presence of the King and Queen of the Seven Kingdoms. Protectors of the Realm. Bringers of the Dawn. The White Wolf and the Breaker of Chains,” Missandei finished with the litany of titles for the King and Queen.
Lord Hornwood and his guards bent the knee until Daenerys bid them to rise. “Lord Hornwood,” he announced. “My men fought with you at the battle for the Dawn.”
Jon gave a single nod. “And we appreciate your allegiance, Lord Hornwood. What matter is so important that you have sought an audience with us on our first day back in the North?”
“Your Grace, I come to you on behalf of several Lords in the North with an abundance of concern in regards to the Wildlings being allowed South of the Wall.”
“What is your concern?” Daenerys asked this time, and Bran knew why they asked questions in tandem this way. It kept the person guessing about who the true authority was. Even now, Lord Hornwood went from addressing Jon to looking at the Queen and deferring to her.
“The Wildlings and the people of the North have a terrible history. They have repeatedly come onto our lands, stealing our livestock, wives, and even children.”
“This is grave news, indeed. Tell us whose wives and children have been stolen since they have been allowed south and we will right the wrongs hastily,” Jon declared.
Lord Hornwood hesitated and Bran could see that he was nervous. “Not… recently, Your Grace.”
“Surely, you’re not coming here to bring up old prejudices against a people that were loyal to us during the long night,” Jon scoffed. “The very people that helped defend the North, the entire realm, from the Dead? You fought alongside them in that battle, correct?”
“With the expectation they would go back where they came from,” Lord Hornwood argued.
“Some have. But others have stayed as they were given leave to do so. What crimes have they committed since the end of the war?” Daenerys questioned. “We are no longer punishing children for the sins of the father. So please, my Lord, since you have obviously spoken with other lords, what crimes are being committed so that we may take your counsel into consideration for the safety of all?” When he didn’t speak, Daenerys stood slowly. “Please, tell me, Lord Hornwood, that you are not here based on prejudice.”
“It is concern, Your Grace.”
“Based on recent history?” Daenerys questioned.
“Based on history and instinct.”
“Ah,” Jon chimed in. Daenerys looked down at him. “Instinct.” At that, Jon climbed to his feet and stroked a hand down Sansax’s spine, causing the dragon to chortle. “Instinct is important. But only when hunting and dealing with children. However, not when deciding if an entire group of people deserves the dignity and respect they’ve come to earn,” he paused, allowing the information to sink in. He slowly, carefully, walked around the table to stand in front of it. “When I was Lord Commander of the Night’s watch, I allowed the Free Folk south of the Wall, having seen the horror that would befall them should they remain there. In exchange, the Free Folk fought against Ramsay Bolton to take back Winterfell and fought against the Dead during the Long Night. You would repay them by taking the security of the home they have now and treating them as if they are the enemy?”
Lord Hornwood didn’t look swayed by this at all. Instead, he straightened his shoulders, lifted his chin in defiance, and responded, “They are the enemy. I remember when I was a boy, that any talk of them ranging south of the Wall and the fear that put in my heart. They can’t be trusted because they don’t hold to our values and authority.”
“You think someone recognizing a King or Queen makes them worthy of freedom?” Daenerys questioned.
“It gives them someone to answer to.”
Jon shook his head. “Lord Hornwood, your argument falls apart on the face of it. Gregor Clegane, Ramsay Bolton, Walder Frey. Do you know what all of those men had in common? They all recognized the authority of a king or queen and ignored it. The Free Folk are not here for your people, they’re here for their own.”
Daenerys shared a look with Jon, and Bran could see something pass between them, some unspoken understanding. He chanced a glance at Meera who appeared unable to wipe the smirk from her lips. He had to admit, this did give him a great thrill to see Jon and Daenerys taking apart Lord Hornwood’s argument.
The Queen turned back to the older lord. “Lord Hornwood, out of curiosity, what is it you would like us to do with the Free Folk?”
He turned his eyes to the Queen and Bran could see him trying to decide how honest to be. “I wish for you to send them back beyond the Wall.”
“Why?”
“Because it’s… where they belong.”
“But if they can live here, in Westeros, and be good stewards of the land they’ve been given and follow the rules, should they be allowed to stay?”
“No, Your Grace. They don’t belong here.”
“You say that, but you haven’t explained why you believe that,” Jon explained.
“You grew up here,” he directed to Jon. “You know the stories about the Wildlings. You know they’re dangerous and unpredictable. Say that they have a bad harvest. What’s to keep them from stealing from us?”
“I suppose the fact that they don’t farm,” Bran offered. “They’re hunters.”
“And when they’ve hunted everything on the land given to them?” he quickly retorted.
Daenerys cleared her throat and walked around the table to stand beside her husband. “Lord Hornwood, I believe I understand. You fear what you don’t know. You don’t know how they will respond in any given situation and you’re trying to protect your people.” She folded her hands in front of her. “We appreciate your concern. Should the free folk step out of line and return to their old pillaging and plundering ways, we have ways of stamping that down. If you have knowledge of a specific incident since they have come to live in the North then we are ready to hear it. However, we will not allow dissent and distrust to spread fear among the people when the Free Folk have done nothing but aid us since they were allowed south of the Wall.”
Jon straightened beside her. “And you’re right, I did grow up in the North. I heard the same stories as you. Ned Stark, my uncle, took the threat of the Wildlings seriously. But he also didn’t know about the threat north of the Wall, nor do I think he ever would have predicted any of the events that have unfolded. The Queen and I are building a new world and there is no place in it for old prejudices. We do not punish the son for the sins of the father, nor will we hold an entire race of people responsible for acts committed in the past.”
Lord Hornwood did not look appeased. “I fought with you during the Long Night. I gave men and risked my own life to fight at your side. But none of that matters, does it?”
“On the contrary,” Daenerys spoke, “we have taken this meeting with you because you’ve earned it. That doesn’t mean we have to agree with your point of view. The King and I are well aware that there will be periods of distrust but do not allow it to linger. Just as you fought at our sides, they fought at yours. That, at the least, is common ground.”
“And what do I do when my people come to me about the Wildlings? Tell them that they’ve been heard and send them away?” he scoffed.
“You listen. Just as we have to you,” Jon said with a nod. “The Free Folk are part of the North now. A part that you must tolerate, if that’s how you choose to do it, but they aren’t going anywhere. Should they choose to return north of the Wall, that will be their choice, but until then, they are welcome to stay here. For everything they have sacrificed and the oaths they pledged to the Queen and I.”
Daenerys continued, “Lord Hornwood, we are not foolish enough to believe that everyone will see things the way we do. We are not asking you to change your opinions overnight. We are asking you to not stand in the way of progress. If the Long Night told us anything it is that we are all stronger when we fight together. During that battle, Free Folk, Northmen, Dothraki, Unsullied, Rivermen… none of it mattered because we were fighting side by side. We are still fighting to fix this world that has been so terribly broken. To do that, we need for the people to feel welcome. All people.”
“And if people disagree?”
“They are allowed to disagree. But as long as negotiations never stop, then progress can be made. It is when men take it upon themselves to circumvent progress that creates unneeded strife. We want peace. We all deserve peace. Do not look for a fight where there isn’t one.” Jon turned to Bran and he looked up at his brother. “Anything to add, my Lord?”
Bran glanced at Lord Hornwood then back at his brother. “No, Your Grace. You’ve both summed it up perfectly. We do hope you will stay for the feast tonight, to honor the arrival of the King and Queen.”
Lord Hornwood looked to be about ready to pop, however he bowed his head to them both. “I accept. Thank you.”
Jon gave him a nod and Lord Hornwood walked out of the room with his men. Meera squeezed Bran’s hand and he offered her a smile before she smiled. His wife then stood and spoke to them all. “I wish I could drink a keg of ale in toast to you.”
Missandei and Daenerys chuckled. “Don’t celebrate too soon. It will be difficult to change people’s minds.”
“Nearly a year in this country and still people gasp when they see me,” Missandei added.
“It is your beauty,” Daenerys offered. Missandei blushed and the Queen turned to Meera. “Come, show us your nursery,” she declared.
Meera linked arms with the Queen and Missandei. “Will you be joining us, husband?”
“No, I’d like to take Jon out to the yard and show him my proficiency with a bow.”
His brother smiled as Podrick rolled Bran around the table as the fading voices of the women drifted to the opposite stairs. “You look very well, brother,” Bran announced with a smile. “Being king suits you.”
They arrived in the training yard and Jon removed his heavy fur cloak. “I think being married suits me much more. And being a father… well, you’ll understand soon.”
“They grow so fast. Babies. I still remember Rickon learning to walk.”
Jon gave a sad smile. “I remember all of you walkin’. Arya was the most stubborn.”
Bran was handed his bow and a quiver full of arrows. “Big surprise.”
Bran knocked an arrow, glanced at the target for only a second before letting it loose. It hit the center. Jon chuckled. “I remember watching you, ten years old, standing right where you are now, aiming for the target.”
“Everybody was watching me, too. You, Robb, Theon… Father.” He knocked another arrow. “Do you think he’d be proud of us all?”
“Proud of you? For certain.”
“What about you?”
“I’m certainly proud of you,” he grinned.
He chuckled slightly. “I appreciate it. I mean, do you wonder if Father would be proud of you?”
His brother’s smile fell from his face as he stared up at the space where he used to stand. “I know there was hardly anything I could want more. I did allow the Widlings south of the Wall, abandoned my post at Castle Black, rejected the vows I’d made—“
“With good reason. You were murdered.”
He stayed silent. “Is that a good enough reason?” He cleared his throat. “It’s difficult because it’s a different situation. I don’t think he ever expected me to be where I am. He never told me who my mother and father really were. But the lie saved my life.” He looked at Bran, and he covered Jon’s hand on his shoulder. “I have to hope that he did all of that to protect me because he loved me. I have to believe… that this, as it is now, would bring him peace.”
Bran nodded. “He’d be proud, I think. You’re a good man. A good father and king. The Gods know you’re a good brother,” he smiled up at him. “I think Robb would be as well.”
His face fell into a deeper frown. “I was going to abandon my post at the Wall when I got word of Father. I was going to be by Robb’s side. I probably would have died with him at the Twins.”
Bran frowned. “If all my looking around at the world has taught me anything, it's to not think twice about the gifts that have been given to me. Things can change so quickly, it’s best not to question the fortune that has fallen upon us.”
“I suppose you’re right. When did you get to be so thoughtful.”
“Somewhere between being tossed out of a window and time with the Three-Eyed Raven. I watched my friend, Meera’s brother die. He was the one to really convince me that my powers were special and should be honed.” He shook his head. “I think about all of us traveling together, how Rickon didn’t want to leave us, but we made him. Would he still be alive if I hadn’t sent him away?”
“Or would he have died with you on the way to the tree,” he sighed. “So many things would have changed if just one of us had done something different. I think we have to move forward.”
“Leave the past behind us.”
He nodded. “I know it’s difficult since you can see the past so clearly, but you know as well as I do that one drop in the water would have sent ripples out and changed things. And all that I’ve lost, I wouldn’t change any of it for what I have now.”
Bran took a deep breath and smiled. “I feel the same. I feel guilty about it, but it’s the truth.”
“Guilt doesn’t change anything. It only makes regret breed within us and I can’t regret where I am now. Would I like to have less scrutiny? Yes, but I will endure that for my wife and children. Anything for them.”
He knocked another arrow and let it go at the target, landing to the side of the previous. “Anything.”
*~*
It was a few short days later, that a restless Meera suddenly sat up in bed and winced. The jostling of the bed and her deep breathing caught his attention immediately. He sat up beside her and stared at her in concern. “Meera?”
She took another deep breath and gripped his hand. When she looked over at him in the dim candle light, her face partially hidden in shadow, he could see it. This was it, their baby was finally coming to join them. He climbed into his chair and rolled to the door. “Fetch the Maester and let the King and Queen know that the baby is coming,” he ordered one of the guards standing behind the door.
The guard nodded and Bran went back to Meera who was now pacing the room. He watched her helplessly as she stopped before the hearth and gripped the mantle above. She breathed through her nose and out through her mouth. “Can I do anything?”
She shook her head. “No. I just need to walk,” she replied. “The Queen told me it helped.”
A knock came to the door and the Maester entered, looking rather dazed on his own. “I hear we are to be graced with a new little Stark.”
Meera stopped walking and leaned against the table as she let out a few deep breaths. “Your enthusiasm is not helping,” she grunted before she stood upright once again and resumed her pacing. The maester moved over to the water basin and cleaned his hands.
“Do you mind if I examine you, my lady?”
She lay back on the bed and Maester Wolkan did his exam. Bran watched as she winced and he gripped her hand. “You still have a while to go.” He went back to the basin and rinsed his hands.
Their midwife entered the room with a younger woman with her, both holding linens. She gave a nod to Maester Wolkan. “I hear it’s time. Lisa and I will strip your bed and dress it for the birth.”
Bran and Meera moved away from the bed and allowed it to be stripped. Meera continued to pace the room, stopping behind Bran and leaning against his chair to help brace her through one of her contractions.
Not since initially losing his ability to walk had he felt so useless. He couldn’t ease Meera’s pain, he couldn’t make the baby come faster, he couldn’t even fully support her when she braced herself. He could only watch as others prepared the room for the arrival of their baby and Meera groaned in pain whenever another wave of pain gripped her.
A knock at the door and Daenerys poked her head in, “May I enter?”
“Of course,” Meera said with a wave of her hand.
“Is walking helping?”
Meera shrugged. “Unsure, but I’m convincing myself it is.”
Dany nodded. “It won’t be long and it will be over and you’ll be able to hold your child. That makes it all worth it.”
“He or she better look like me if I have to endure this,” she muttered and Dany smiled.
“I’m afraid we don’t get that choice. Do you need anything?” The Queen asked.
She nodded. “Can you help distract Bran? I can hear his fretting from across the room.”
“You can not,” he argued, though it was futile.
Daenerys sat on a chair near the foot of the bed. “No need to fret. Millions of people have come into the world the same way.” She shook her head. “Jon was a mess when the girls came. It’s difficult to watch someone you love suffer and be unable to do anything about it.”
“He looked calm to me,” Bran replied. Daenerys straightened. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t snooping. I was just... checking on my family.”
She sank back in her chair a bit. “I know Jon better than I know anyone. He was worried and paced with me. But when I needed him to be solid, to hold me and encourage me, he was right there in my ear,” she leveled Bran with a look.
Meera stopped and leaned against the table again. Deep breaths through her nose and soon it passed. “Where are the princesses?”
Daenerys smiled. “Snuggled up with their father. Just as they like. Honestly, when they’re in our bed, I’m better off sleeping on the floor with as much room as they give me.”
Meera smiled. “You let them sleep with you?”
She nodded. “I like having them close.”
“I think I’d like the same,” she replied and Bran looked up at her, realizing they’d never discussed it. He took her hand in his and brought it to his lips.
She paced again. At one point, Meera stood stock still and water pooled at her feet. Daenerys quickly rushed to her side and held her hand steady as the midwife and maid cleaned up the mess. Daenerys smiled at them both. “Won’t be long now.”
Bran wondered if the Queen had prophetic gifts as she had been right, and with one large contraction, the midwife announced that it was time for her to push.
“My Lord, perhaps you’d like to wait outside.”
Bran scowled at him. “Absolutely not.”
The maester continued. “My Lord, it is what is done.”
“I will be here with my wife. I don’t care if it’s “what is done”.”
Maester Wolkan backed off as the ladies guided Meera toward the bed. Bran quickly maneuvered onto the bed, as he had seen Jon do. The look of relief on Meera’s face was enough to let him know he’d done the right thing.
Daenerys stood and placed a gentle kiss upon Meera’s head. “Remember, it’s all worth it in the end. I’ll leave you two alone.” She smiled. “You’re going to do wonderfully.”
Dany stepped away from the bed and left the room. Meanwhile, Meera had grabbed both of his hands and grunted through the next contraction.
“You’re doing very well, my Lady. On the next contraction I want to push as hard as you can.”
She gave a nod, gripped Bran’s hands hard, whispered,“I love you.”, and she was pushing. He ignored the pain in his hands as his wife let out a low moan until she sagged against him. “Well done, my Lady,” the maester called. “You’re going to keep pushing until your little one is here. So, push just as hard with the next one.”
And she did, each time sagging back against Bran until the next one built. Before long she was sweating profusely, the maid dabbing her head with a cool rag between each push. Tears traced down her face and Bran brushed them away as best he could. He was uncertain how long she’d been at it, when he noticed that the sun had come up and she was still pushing. “You’ve done wonderful. One more push and the head will be out! Everything you’ve got, My Lady.”
Meera nodded, taking several deep breaths before she pushed once more, and a loud moan ripped from her chest. The midwife looked up at her with a bright smile. “The head is out. Another push and we’ll get the shoulders.”
Another push and soon the cries of the baby filled the room. Meera’s gown was moved down as they placed the crying wriggling baby against her bare chest. He looked down into the crying face of his son and pressed his brow to the back of her head. “You did amazing,” he whispered.
“He’s finally here,” she gasped.
“My Lord,” he looked up to see the midwife smiling at him. “We’d like to get the lady, the baby, and your bed cleaned.”
“Fetch Podrick,” he ordered and squeezed Meera.
“You aren’t leaving,” she said softly.
“No, just moving to my chair to give them room to work.”
Podrick entered the room and helped Bran maneuver into his chair. “My Lady, might we let your husband hold the baby for a few moments? Just long enough to clean you.”
Meera nodded and the midwife gently took the baby and wrapped him in a blanket. She handed Bran his son and he took deep breaths as he looked down into his little face. He had a little button nose, full cheeks, and dark hair atop his head. He would need a bath, but he was perfect. He sat staring into the little face until a hand touched his shoulder and he looked up to see Maester Wolkan smiling down at him. “We should clean him off and would you allow me to take some measurements for the book?”
Bran nodded and the Maester guided Bran over to a bowl of warm water and they began cleaning him together. He looked over at Meera who was speaking to the midwife as she settled back into the clean bed. They locked eyes and he knew his heart was totally hers. He would never get over his love for her. She never gave up on him. Gave him a second chance when she didn’t have to. He would be forever grateful for that.
The baby was soon swaddled and placed into his arms, now settled, his eyes open and looking up at him.
His heart felt full to burst, tears welling in his eyes as he cradled him against his chest. He looked up at his wife, laying back on her pillows, staring at them with a soft smile and tears in her own eyes. Podrick rolled his chair over to the bed. He handed the baby over to Meera and she settled him against her. Bran looked around the room at the others milling about. “Please let the King and Queen know that the baby is here and we shall see them at midday.”
“Of course, My Lord,” the maid said as she left the room.
“Allow us some time alone,” he said to everyone else.
The room cleared out, Podrick was the last to leave, and he closed the door behind them. She took Bran’s hand in hers as she stared at their son. “He’s so beautiful.”
“He is. He looks like you,” he replied. “I think we should name him Jojen.”
Meera looked up at him, her eyes bright, her smile wide. “I do, too. He’s the reason we met, after all.”
“Jojen Stark,” he said softly. “Welcome to the world.”
*~*
Daenerys sat beside the bed holding Jojen as the little princesses looked on from Jon and Bran’s arms. “He’s just adorable,” she cooed.
“Bay-bee,” Rhaella proclaimed.
“That’s right, little love,” Jon answered. “That’s your cousin, Jojen.”
“Joshen,” she parroted.
Bran smiled. “Close enough.”
Lyanna held her arms out. “My hold it.”
Meera smiled and gave a nod to Daenerys. She looked at her little daughter on Bran’s lap. “Say please.”
“Pwease,” she urged.
Daenerys held Jojen out and placed him in Lyanna’s arms, never removing her own hands. “What do you think, Lya?”
“Seepin’.”
Bran smiled. “He is. Be gentle,” he coaxed.
She leaned her head down against his and moved her arms. Daenerys pulled the baby back to her. She looked up at Rhaella who was playing with Jon’s beard and paying no attention to what was happening between them. “I think he’s been Princess approved,” she joked.
“Is he Queen approved?” Meera joked.
“Absolutely. Makes me want another one,” she smiled.
“We can work on that if you like, Your Grace,” Jon teased.
She sighed wistfully. “Don’t tempt me.”
Jon set Rhaella on her feet. “Alright, I’m calling uncle rights,” he said as he reached for the baby and pulled him into his arms. Daenerys stood and allowed him to have the chair as she lifted Rhaella into her arms. Jon leaned back, looking natural holding the baby. “Reminds me of you,” Jon said with a smile.
“Was Bran a good baby?” Meera asked.
“He was. Quiet,” he replied. “Rickon was a handful. But Bran was always happy to just observe,” he said as he looked up. “Fitting, isn’t it?”
Bran smiled, Lyanna rested back against his chest, her thumb tucked between her lips as she slowly drifted off. “I’m sure no one thought anything about it back then.”
“I think they were happy that he was so easy after Arya. She was a terror.”
Meera chuckled. “How so?”
“She would take her nappies off and streak about starkers. Before Cat could even turn around good, she was out the door and into the yard. Father always laughed whenever she managed to escape.” He rubbed his hand over the baby’s back and looked up at Bran. “One time, they found her in the kitchens playing in the soot.”
“I bet mother was furious.”
He chuckled. “Father found her. Came out of the kitchens holding her by the ankle as the rest of her was covered in soot and ash. Not even Cat was mad because it was so ridiculous to see this little baby covered in black. It actually helped to give Robb and I the idea to cover ourselves in flour and scare Sansa.”
Daenerys ran her hand over his shoulders and he looked up at her. “If you do that to our girls, I’m going to make you clean up after the dragons.”
Jon snorted. “Count me sufficiently warned.”
Soon, Jon was handing Jojen back to Meera. “We need to feed and put the little princesses down for a nap.”
“I can have Missandei help me,” Daenerys offered. “Allow you to stay and visit longer.”
“Remember how we were? We didn’t want anyone around when we had ours. Let’s let them have their time.” He took a dozing Lyanna from Bran. “We’ll come back later. Make sure she gets some rest,” Jon warned Bran.
“Of course, Your Grace.” Jon wrinkled his nose at the title, and Bran chuckled as they both left the room.
Meera smiled down at the baby. “As much as I enjoy their company, your brother was right. I want nothing more than to bask in our little family.”
Bran brushed his thumb over the back of her hand. “As long as you like.”
*~*
A day later, they were all gathered in their bedroom, this time with Meera seated on one of the sofas before the fire in the solar. The little princesses were walking around the room playing with one another while their parents shared baby holding time. Jon and Bran shared more anecdotes of their time when they were growing up in Winterfell, and Bran’s heart soared to see his brother, his dour older cousin actually, but he would always be his brother, laughing. He looked so much lighter.
They were interrupted by a knock at the door and Podrick entered. “Beg your pardon, but you have a guest.”
Bran frowned. “A guest?”
Podrick stepped out of the way and Howland entered the room. “I hope you don’t mind a visit.”
“Father!” Meera exclaimed.
Howland walked into the room fully, bowed to Jon and Daenerys, then turned his attention to his daughter. “I would have been here yesterday, but I was waylaid by a storm.”
“You’re more than welcome, My Lord,” Bran said with a smile.
Daenerys handed the baby to Meera. “Jon, let’s go to the Godswood with the girls and give them some privacy.”
Jon picked up both girls, giggling as they went, and he turned to the room. “We’ll see you all for dinner if that’s alright?”
“Of course,” Bran answered.
“Thank you,” Meera called to them.
Daenerys closed the door behind her with a small wave. Howland sat beside Meera. “Father, I would like to introduce you to Jojen Stark,” she passed the baby over to him and Howland held him gently.
“A lovely tribute to your brother,” Howland declared, his eyes never leaving the face of the baby.
“He was the reason we met,” Bran answered.
Howland nodded. “I’m your grandpapa, little one.”
“I wish you would have told us you were coming. I would have had a room made up for you.”
He frowned. “I’m sorry, my dear. I was so excited with the thought of my first grandchild, I rushed away. However, I do believe young Podrick has already called for a room to be done for me.”
“I’m so glad you’re here,” Meera said as she wiped away a tear.
“So am I. How are you fairing? It was a long birth.”
Bran looked over at his wife and she nodded. “I’m fine. Sore. But I couldn’t be happier.”
Howland smiled up at her. “There is nothing else a father longs to hear than the happiness of their child. And this little one is beautiful,” he said softly. “I knew he would be.”
“Thank you for coming,” Bran said softly.
“Of course. Not every day a man gets to hold their first grandchild.”
Meera took Bran’s hand and he watched her as she spoke with her father as he held their child. She looked so at peace, so comfortable, and so happy. He never wanted her to look any other way. He swore to himself, then and there, he would spend the rest of his life working to make sure she was always this content.